The Last Resort
It was a beautiful day here in Toytown for the first day of June. Well it was until the haar set in.
There I was at 6am on the 2nd speaking to a group of teenagers who'd decided, in the sunshine, to pitch their tent on the outskirts of town at a local 'beauty spot'.
When they'd set up home for the night (having told their olds that they were variously staying at each other's house for the night!) it had been, as they called it, "Paradise."
Looking at them now, wrapped up in quilts and sleeping bags shivering in 'T' shirts, in the cold of the morning accentuated by the haar so dense it was like drizzle, I had to ask, "I don't know why."
It was lost on them as I continued, "Call someplace Paradise, kiss it goodbye!"
Kids!
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